Long Inadvertent Poems
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fruitful is each breath, unpremeditational
dolphins jumping calm sea diagonal
as bumble bee pauses on swaying daisy
industry’s pollen for human folk’s honey
we all are lucky, don’t you see ?
sun rising each morn or hiding in winter
eclipsed by nebula, floating arbitrary blinkers
circling purest love within core soaring
unexpected finches settle, chirping linger
fertile soil unsolicited beneath our feet fortuitous is Gaia, gravity’s a blue-green feat
coffee’s black, sweet an incidental treat
incremental is our luck, not accidental
dribbling raindrops on window pane inadvertent
allow scribbles of verses in puddle concerted wings of wind float seeds, land lacy across loam
nothings by chance, sometimes we roam
naught’s coincidental, every positive serendipity underscores a negative
balance of forces appears chance, though every cookie’s appearance is
ALL’s intention dance
fortuitously I uncovered ageless trace of own
sixty-fourth gene codon, gleaning my life’s purpose previously unseen —- to be
transformational-inspirational poetry was genome’s message unhesitational ~
seemed random, opportune gift graces
unveiling heavenly aces
____________________________
SECOND PLACEMENT : Premier Contest
Sponsor: Rob Carmack
April 26
The unforeseen transpirations from hidden forces
changed the trajectories of my life’s plotted courses.
My story’s writer is now anonymous in name.
The book being composed for me was consumed in flame.
That infamous moment which I’m forced to remember
was once a fire, but now a smoldering ember.
Paths that were once open are now closed and forbidden.
A work containing different terms had to be written.
I’m filled with questions of the events that may be next.
I am anxious with words on the pages in the text.
I now realize since those inadvertent clashes,
there’s little chance a phoenix will rise from the ashes.
“Inadvertent Climate Modification”
By: Miracle Man
5/5/2022
In the early seventies by this moniker it was known,
then global warming and today, climate change.
Today, blaming most things on it many are prone,
but climate change is now a more acceptable exchange.
Words have evolved until finding one with appeal,
one not so offensive, that just rolls off a tongue.
One to be the backbone of the Green New Deal,
like most socialist agendas I find it far flung.
Politicians use climate change to push their agenda,
everything that happens seems to stem from this.
They offer up more cool aid sweetened with Splenda,
while doing their jobs many have become remiss.
The climate has been changing since time began
and will continue until God ends it.
Tom
It’s difficult to share the great unknown
residing somewhere cloaked and undercover.
Hiding in nooks and crannies
that deep abyss of darkness
quite content to remain nameless.
Eyes ever watching peering glaring
in silence loud with echo
while half-truths ride wild rollercoasters.
Stonewalled with straight poker face
denying any inadvertent slips of telltale signs
the mystery that wants to be deciphered
remains the epitome of enigma.
You’d think it’d be to my advantage
to open up and spell things out.
I’m not in tune with inner feelings
and expressing emotion is a foreign language
… unfortunately old habits die hard.
Lineku: 3 stanzas 5-7-5 lines of 5 or 7 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
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Of Youthful Indiscretions
Written: By Tom Wright
11/28/00
In our youth,
many desire to dance with life.
Cognizant of, that at some point,
the dance will end and the Piper paid,
yet we procrastinate.
Life holds each culpable for our youthful exuberance,
and our often, immature choices.
As youthful indiscretions darken our past,
so also, do they obscure our future.
Just as the Prodigal's Son,
we can return unto the house of our father.
For, as with our Heavenly Father,
there, will be found love and forgiveness.
Never should we write ourselves off, nor should others;
For Jesus said, concerning the woman taken in adultery,
" He that is without sin among you,
let him first cast a stone at her ".
Youthful improprieties need not be synonymous with failure,
and beginning anew, requires only that we aspire to improve;
An alteration of attitude, or surroundings, per se,
and a return to our Heavenly Father.
By those who know and love us, surely we'll be exonerated;
while those who don't know us, it scarcely matters.
Of the embarrassment and pain we cause ourselves,
we deserve, and unquestionably will endure;
Consider this the Piper's payment for the dance.
As for inadvertent anguish caused to others,
it takes but a moment in time to say " I'm sorry ",
but takes, what often seems like an eternity, to validate.
Hopefully, we will not be remembered for youthful knockdowns;
let our true character lie in our ability to rise from our last.
It took a record producer named Mr. White
to push you four guys to such a dizzying height.
You Erie, Pennsylvania musicians were quite able.
Mr. White signed you to the Play-Tone label.
“That Thing You Do” rocketed up the Billboard charts.
“Shades” and the gang won many young girls’ hearts.
The group got to be something everybody would know
with an appearance on a major network show.
That night, a few inadvertent blunders
placed the band into the classification of “one-hit wonders”.
Their one big hit song turned out to be their final.
Fame and success are fleeting and ephemeral.
Based on the 1997 film “That Thing You Do”
Marvelous mitzvah "munchkin" minted
Thy eldest daughter Eden Liat
treasured more'n a pearl
(otherwise known as Rapunzel)...
donated cut hair to charity - you go girl,
ha, whereat your fine brunette locks of love
will be repurposed into wigs for kids,
and perhaps even don kepi
of trumpeting Bullwinkle, his Sciuridae
friend named Rocket J. Squirrel,
and/or his nemesis Natasha Fatale.
Kudos to thee savvy
twenty three plus year old offspring
voluntarily unwittingly hood
amazingly gracefully support
exhausting, flagging, grueling...
stricken young spirits and bring
joie de vivre during
treatment and convalescence
of challenging treatment ailing,
perhaps hoop fully nipping
terminal illness in bud
beaten into remission,
whereby family, friends medical staff sing
ode to joy cherishing
nothing short of a blessing.
Said sensible, smart and
stalwart inadvertent mentor,
a splendidly mirthful and mindful lass
yes, tis biased opinion, quite a
truckload of abilities she did amass
even fending bullies who tried to harass
attractive petite proportionate physique
confident smile shown back
courtesy looking glass
and papa cognizant,
how her art of humbleness
helped her succeed as top class
high achiever at Harriton High School,
especially acing rigorous
International Baccalaureate (IB)
(worldwide, nonprofit education program
plus even when just a little girl
attending Belmont Elementary
promise of success,
my feeble accomplishments
"star student" did quickly surpass
with flying colors earned free pass
concomitantly acquiring invisible
magic ring, and carpet made of brass
the latter powered by
Walt Whitman wrought leaves of grass
at University of Pennsylvania
earning stripes as Ivy League graduate
freelance activist while completing
internship linkedin with
University of Southern California.
Spellbound birth father
internally rejoices ta deum,
we knew e'er since Eden Liat
healthy growing fetus within the womb
whip smart progeny
undoubtedly healthy unbridled maturation,
I vicariously exalt storied accomplishments
accrediting and applauding
every iota offspring earned
blood, sweat and tears
created deafening sonic boom,
and where infinitesimal blazing saddle
burned blinding trajectory
catching eminent potential groom.
HEADLINE NEWS
Dear Readers (of every major news publication in the USA):
Our apologies for the following error, which we’ve made almost daily for
18 years, since 2006:
. for misidentifying Hamas*-controlled Gaza (as ‘Israeli-occupied Gaza’).
We sincerely regret the thousands of deaths caused by our inadvertent
error, as well as any inconvenience to you, dear readers.
~ Editors-in-Chief ...
*Hamas is officially recognized as a terror organization by the US
government It is responsible for murdering thousands of Jews in
Israel and around the world over the past 30+ years -- as well as
tens of thousands of deaths of Arabs living under its (Hamas')
civilian authority (i.e., in Gaza).
Jurassic Prayer
By Mark D. Stucky
We asked our preschooler to pray,
and with dinner plates before us
and our hands folded,
he paused in silence
and then roared in imitation
of a wounded, angry dinosaur.
We all laughed at the incongruous “prayer”
from the tiny portrayal of a monstrous T-Rex,
but was the inadvertent theology
as inappropriate as first thought?
Religious roars of pain and anger
permeate the book of Job,
the story of an exemplary man
wounded by undeserved catastrophes.
In anger, Job roared at judgmental comforters.
In anguish, he roared at the world and at God.
And God roared back from a whirlwind
and later restored Job’s many blessings.
When wounded by anguish or anger
and longing for or fearing death,
good therapy is roaring at God
and baring one’s soul’s darkest depths,
for God, through crucifixion, felt our pain
and God, through resurrection, roared good news
that monstrous Death dies defeated.
And God will wipe away our tears
at the final end of earthly evil’s roaring
and the new beginning of celestial singing.
(First published in Agape Review, 11 July 2022. See also my poem "Bringing Heaven to Earth" and my visual poem “Haiga for the Heavenbound.”)
(Image by user1457424776 on Pixabay.com.)
When thoughts become obsessive,
is my heart being made redundant,
laid off, cast off, sent astray
recycled pulse rates mere skip hire fodder,
atrophied organ sinking into deep morass,
panic stricken warning notice object,
abject part indigenous scarred,
or scared from sudden rupture,
once a golden seal enactment,
the intensity of love and verdant pathways,
but thoughts they zigzag devious,
without a leash, curb or rein,
they stray like homeless after dark drifters
whose piercing blue eyes scupper vagrant mist,
but oh those torrid thoughts,
of past romantic Himalayan peaks,
where nostalgic loitering a back to front yen,
currency of tantalising moment,
fluctuating in a reckless high stake instrument,
cliff top shudder inadvertent plunge,
yet each thought I used to frolic with,
in meadows of a mythic mystic mind,
we’re so glare blind and delusional,
dragging me on circuitous dandelion epiphanies,
symbolising gurgle stream limestone cave exit,
some dual world attachment barely visible,
detachment on aloof scorched red wood boundary,
thoughts are like those joined at hip beings,
feeding off the actual mesmerizing carousel,
of fleeting guests and life events,
or so it seemed, perhaps it’s just a thought,
of all those things that never settle in one spot